The Girl Can't Help It (Unexpected Encounters)

by Johnson, Jeanie

  “No wonder you’re single,” Sean had said even as he threw his passport at him. “Plane leaves in five hours. And behave.”

  So far Tracy was behaving although everything in him protested that. Beautiful women and a Lodi male was an equation for a damn good time. If he’d had a death wish, he would’ve tried to date Vegas. If he’d had a maiming wish, he would’ve tried to date Perry. Perry might not be as wide open as Vegas, but he’d witnessed her cut a person to pieces with a few words and a look. Still, those two were some good-looking women and stood out…even in the fashion capital of Europe.

  That didn’t stop him from pouring on the Lodi charm though. Tracy had discovered that he enjoyed flirting with the beautiful Perry, who blushed rather prettily. He was duty bound to flirt with her. He might call Northern California home, but at heart he was a Southern boy and charm was what Southern men did best besides sports, helping little old ladies across the street, and pulling people out of ditches. Perry Sebastian might be little in comparison to him but she was far removed from being an old lady. Even when she was an old lady, she probably wouldn’t act or look it. She would however, always be a real lady.

  Although Perry had called him a handsome man, Tracy knew that she would never call him her man. That was too bad but he knew it was for the best. As good as Perry was to look at, he was too rough for a woman that soft. Saying that, it was a rather humbling experience to have a woman not fall all over him. He was after all a Lodi…and not just any Lodi but the best-looking Lodi. Yet, here he was in Italy with two women who obviously needed glasses because neither Vegas nor Perry realized that he was not only the best-looking Lodi brother, but the best-looking man around.

  Though his ego was a little bit bruised, he just couldn’t have his Perry being sad. Soon as he found out what had made her sad, he was going to stomp a mud hole in someone and walk that som’bitch dry, regardless of Italian law.

  “Who do I need to hurt?” Tracy asked as he took hold of her hand.

  Though Perry didn’t offer up a name, she did at least offer up a genuine smile along with a soft laugh. She squeezed his hand before reaching up and kissing his cheek. The soft scent of lilacs that gave him ideas made it difficult to remember that he was a gentleman, which was why he was glad that he remembered she was a lady.

  “You’re a true gentleman…even when you want to beat people,” Perry said as she caressed his jaw.

  And there she went, just slaying him with her words. “I know I’m a gentleman. I put that on my business card,” he said in an attempt to hide his emotion. It wasn’t often that he received a compliment without strings attached to it. If he couldn’t have the woman, he’d take that. A smile and compliment from Perry made a man feel ten feet tall.

  “Well then, since you won’t give me anyone to fight, how about you tell me about all these clothes these skinny girls are wearing?”

  The beautiful, albeit too thin for his taste, woman on his arm should’ve kept Alessandro happy or at the very least content. Unfortunately for Alessandro, he was neither happy nor content, but distracted. And the cause of that distraction was sitting across the room beside a big, blond man who looked like he was the poster boy for the American cowboy in spite of the Hugo Boss® tux he was wearing.

  The cowboy was too close to her for his liking. Alessandro didn’t appreciate the fact that he was touching her either. He definitely didn’t appreciate Perry touching him back. The last time he witnessed her touching something with such care, it was a designer handbag.

  If he had it, Alessandro would’ve thrown an entire store of handbags at her in order to separate her from that cowboy, which didn’t look like it was going to happen anytime soon. The way the cowboy had her tucked up to him was a clear message to others that Perry was with him. The way he constantly touched her, the way he whispered in her ear, the way he coaxed a smile or a laugh from her spoke of familiarity, an intimacy, a trust…things he wanted to have with Perry. If he’d been honest, he would’ve pegged his behavior for what it was: jealousy. However being that he’d never had a cause to be jealous in his thirty-seven years, Alessandro chalked it up to a general dislike of the cowboy.

  Watching her laugh, Alessandro wondered if he’d be blacklisted if he started a brawl at the fashion show. Probably, but it was difficult to recall why he should care about that when Perry was busy smiling up at another man. Perry should smile only for him, sing those lyrical notes of laughter exclusively for him, and wear that silky creation only for him.

  Perry should be tucked up against his side. But no, she was smiling at the cowboy, letting him hear the uncensored sounds of her laughter, letting him touch her. He could understand why the cowboy would want to touch her, but he could not forgive Perry for touching him back…not after he’d seen her fondle that handbag…and imagined he was that bag.

  Alessandro had been unable to forget the look he had shared with Perry in the boutique. It was seared into his mind. He couldn’t help the words that fell from his mouth, just as he couldn’t help the way his eyes locked on her and stayed there.

  When their eyes had first met, she’d turned to look behind her as if she believed he was watching someone else. After realizing that he was indeed watching her, she’d gasped and the shy smile had appeared. For long moments, they’d felt each other up with their eyes before their silent communication was interrupted by one of the store clerks. Well, it had been interrupted for Perry but Alessandro hadn’t stopped watching.

  A quiet man by Italian standards and a virtually silent man by American standards, Alessandro had watched with a sense of disappointment as Perry had purchased the handbag and left the store without so much as a backward glance. Women always looked back and Perry was most definitely a woman. She should’ve looked back; her friend did. Of course her friend also pointed at Perry’s bare ring finger and then made some interesting hand gestures.

  A striking woman in her own right, everything alerted him that Vegas was a true spitfire, including her name…and the way Perry said it. He immediately liked her and not simply because she’d been so vocal in her approval of him. The series of “mmm hmms” she’d emitted as she passed him had made him smile. Though Vegas had vocalized her appreciation, Alessandro had instinctively known that Vegas wasn’t interested in him in a sexual way. It wasn’t just the amethyst-and-diamond platinum engagement ring on her finger that told him that her interests lay elsewhere; it was the spirited way she’d attempted to throw Perry at him. It was good that Vegas liked him; he had a feeling that he’d need her help before all was said and done.

  Perry had hardly gotten out of the door good before he found himself being distracted by the store clerk bringing his purchase. Though he’d continued to function, his mind remained on the beautiful woman who most likely was visiting his city for fashion week. Perry might be American but she definitely dressed like she was Italian. She had the kind of style that graced catwalks and if she didn’t have those tempting curves, and lushness that marked her as a woman, he could’ve envisioned her there.

  He could also envision her on his arm, in his arms, and in his bed…especially in his bed. Just one look from her had him in knots. Just one damn look from the woman and Alessandro was finding it damn near impossible to feign interest in anything else…including his date for the evening. It was just a damn look but that looked sealed both their fates.

  Chapter Tre

  “Isn’t that the hottie from the Louis Vuitton® store staring over here?” Vegas asked with a grin and an elbow nudge.

  Perry looked to where Vegas was staring. Amongst the beautiful models and European Royalty was none other than Hot Dimple Guy (HDG)! Even in such august company, HDG stood out. He exuded pure masculinity. Though she tried valiantly not to give into the urge to look at HDG, she wanted to know if his eyes were as hazel as she remembered and if that dimple was as devastating as she’d believed. They were.

  Damn him! And damn him for having such style. While she didn’t wear tuxes, she could
n’t help but note his outfit. In a sea of Dolce and Gabbana®, Prada®, Bottega Veneta®, and Giorgio Armani®, Perry bet every piece HDG had on had only one name in it: his. Hand tailored for HDG. It was fitting, being his suit appeared to be molded to his frame.

  HDG had a Lord-of-the-Manor aura. On top of that he had the nerve to be the most handsome man in all of Italy. Considering some of the models present…that was really saying something.

  Perry wrinkled her nose at the beautiful woman who accompanied him. If she wasn’t mistaken, and she wasn’t, that woman was on the catwalk in the previous collection modeling Prada’s® signature piece. She might occasionally forget a face but she didn’t forget clothes. While Perry liked the woman when she’d glimpsed her on the pages of style magazines, Perry discovered that she didn’t like the model at this moment. Of course, to be fair Perry would’ve had a hard time liking Mother Superior if she was seated next to HDG. Barely over the age of twenty, the model was too young for HDG even if she did look good on his arm.

  Perry thought that she and HDG shared a look and maybe they had but the sad truth was that she couldn’t compete with youth. She’d never be twenty again, not that she’d want to. However, she wouldn’t mind having a perfect size eight or being a willowy six feet in height.

  Vegas’s not-so-subtle throat clearing reminded Perry she hadn’t responded to her question about HDG. Perry had to remind herself to play it cool otherwise Vegas would do something that displayed a remarkable lack of couth such as frog-marching her across the room and tossing her in HDG’s lap…while she herself took up residence in his date’s lap so she could have a first row seat at the fallout.

  “Who?” Perry asked in what she hoped was a casual tone.

  “Oh, no you didn’t,” Vegas said with a shake of her head.

  “Just this once, Vegas, okay?”

  Something in her tone must’ve gotten through to Vegas because Vegas didn’t push it although her eyes frosted over. That usually spelled something unpleasant for someone and Perry only hoped that the model had good security to go with that wonderful dress because Vegas was heated.

  “It’s the skinny bitch, isn’t it?”

  “Let it go, Vegas, please.”

  “Fine, I’ll let it go…for now, but that doesn’t mean that I have to like it,” she muttered before strolling off.

  Thankfully Tracy’s brothers, Rodeo and Byron followed her. They might not be able to prevent an incident but at least they could stave off an international incident. Maybe. Hopefully. Oh hell. She wondered if she had enough money to bail all three of them out of Italian jail.

  Slapping a smile on her face, she continued to watch the show, unaware that two men watched her. She was okay. She was. Feeling Tracy wrap a big arm around her shoulders, she leaned into him briefly, needing his strength.

  “If you won’t give me your hand in marriage, give me the name, darlin’,” he drawled directly into her ear.

  Perry couldn’t help it. She laughed as Tracy once again extended the threat. Tracy always managed to cheer her up and she couldn’t help but like him for that. She wondered for the millionth time why they couldn’t be in love with each other.

  She wasn’t aware that she’d spoken that last bit aloud until Tracy responded. “Because we’d have an illegal monopoly on looking good, darlin’, and you know how our government frowns upon such things.”

  He had a point…and a fantastic sense of humor. “It’s a toss-up whether you or Vegas is the craziest!”

  “No, it’s not. It’s Vegas…who lives in a converted firehouse because it has a pole in it that she slides down each day. Vegas, whose favorite meal is dead animal and dessert, not that I disagree about that. I’d just phrase it more eloquently. However, I can’t cosign on her headache remedy of black coffee and pork chops. Need I say more?”

  “No, you don’t.” Perry laughed.

  “I rest my case then.”

  “Behave, Tracy. I’m already suspicious of Byron, Rodeo and Vegas going off together. Between them, that’s a felony and a grab bag of misdemeanors just waiting to happen. If you get arrested who’s going to help me break them out of foreign prison?”

  Perry anticipated Tracy’s rich bellow of laughter but hearing it still made her laugh.

  “I can imagine you doing all sorts of things but breaking anyone out of foreign prison isn’t one of them, darlin’. You’d be too busy trying to outfit everyone.”

  “I neither confirm nor deny your words. However, I am hungry so show me that famous Southern charm and take me to get something to eat. I’m starved.”

  “On one condition,” Tracy said as he took her arm and guided her toward the exit.

  Perry looked up and over her shoulder at the handsome blond.

  “Name it.”

  “You save me a dance tonight. Rodeo and Byron have crushes on you and I need to make them jealous.”

  “Absolutely, but don’t even get it in your head that you’re going to keep me out on the dance floor all night. I’m way past the days of clubbing.”

  “Babe, I’m a real man. There are many places I could keep you all night—and I do mean all night—and the dance floor ain’t one of them.” He smiled.

  “You’re an incorrigible flirt,” she said.

  “And I’m also handsome. I have that on good authority.”

  “Really?” she asked with a quirk of her brow.

  “Yep, and next time you tell me that I’m going to record it so I can trot it out when I need to.”

  “You’re something else.”

  “I know, right. And you’re not half-bad yourself.” He winked.

  “You’re biased.”

  “I am but the truth still stands. There ain’t a woman in here who has a thing on you in the looks department, but it ain’t just about looks. You’re beautiful everywhere and if a man doesn’t see that, well I’d be more than happy to point out the error of his ways with a fist to the eye.”

  How’s that going to help him see better?” She laughed.

  “It won’t, but I wasn’t done. After the fist to the eye, there’s going to be a fist to the throat…and to the gut.”

  “Followed up with a double axe-chop to the back?” She finished.

  “See, hanging around me has broadened your horizons.

  “I can’t deny that.”

  “Wouldn’t do you any good if you tried.”

  The rest of the night went smoothly. Vegas worked that party like Carrie Bradshaw® rocked Manolo’s®. Rodeo and Byron shadowed Vegas better than the woman’s actual shadow. Meanwhile, Tracy stayed with her and kept her in stitches. When he wasn’t dancing with her, he was busy eyeballing any man who got too close.

  “One day you’re going to have a daughter,” she said as he scared off another man.

  “And she’ll look good in her nun’s habit,” he said without missing a beat.

  All in all it was a good night. Looking fondly at her handbag, Perry caressed it before drifting off to sleep. Smiling, she had dreams of handbags and a certain handsome Italian man with a dimple in his left cheek who’d somehow worked his way into her heart and mind.

  Chapter Quattro

  It’d been a fantastic week, made better by the fact that she had another week and a half to explore this city…at her pace. Missing his wife, Sean had flown in three days ago. She hadn’t seen hide or hair of Vegas since, but she hadn’t expected to. If she had, she would’ve been giving Sean a healthy dose of side eye.

  Perry smiled recalling the speed at which the Lodi brothers had thrown their clothes into their suitcases—she refused to call what they did “packing.” Tracy had hauled her into a fierce bear hug, kissed her cheeks soundly. “You know I’m right fond of you, Perry, but everything here is too cramped, the food too little and if I never see another boutique, it’ll be too soon.”

  Perry couldn’t resist teasing him. “But we haven’t visited even half of them.”

  “And we won’t, darlin’. But I have a consolation p
rize for you.” He’d handed her an envelope and a bit of advice. “You’re a classy woman, Perry. I respect and admire you. Milan is your dream city, so dream.”

  A moment later he was ensconced in the too little cab, instructing the driver to “haul ass.”

  Apparently, none of the guys had as much fun as she and Vegas did. How anyone could be surrounded by high fashion and picturesque views and not be moved was beyond her. Oh well, there was no accounting for taste she thought as she’d opened the envelope. She smiled at the spa voucher. Tracy might not know a thing about fashion, but it was clear he knew her. Quickly changing her plans, she texted Vegas. She didn’t bother calling since Vegas had screamed out her voice a day ago. Go Sean! Good thing she didn’t need a voice to be pampered at one of the world’s finest spas.

  Three days later

  Perry smiled at the handsome young man who served her coffee, briefly wondering if all Italian men were so handsome. Or was it just the ones in Milan? Sighing, she made herself comfortable in the café. If the weather had been warmer, she would’ve had her coffee on the terrace. It offered fantastic views of the city. She’d chosen the hotel based on the photos of that terrace alone. But alas, she would have to return when the weather was warmer so she could live out that fantasy.

  She smiled at the irony of the moment. It was a good day indeed when her biggest complaint was that she had to have her coffee in an Italian café rather than on her terrace. The café was straight out of an interior design magazine. Dressed in warm tones, it inspired guests to relax just as the country of Italy inspired guests to indulge their passions. Sort of like Vegas.

  Vegas had chosen their hotel and most of their itinerary. She would’ve objected but truthfully, she hadn’t wanted to. Italy was her dream vacation and if there was anyone who could squeeze the most excitement out of any event, it was Vegas. The woman didn’t know the difference between a pocket book and a luxury handbag but she knew her hair weaves and her five-star resorts. She also knew a good man when she saw one, Perry thought as she considered how gentle Sean was with Vegas and how fiercely he loved her friend.